


Learning to Swim

by Takada_Saiko



Series: Truth in the Lies [20]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M, Keen2, Learning to Swim, Mr and Mrs Keen, Tom/Liz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 09:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3724033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Takada_Saiko/pseuds/Takada_Saiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had agreed to meet with him because he had information about the case, not because she had any interest in teaching him how to swim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning to Swim

**Learning to Swim**

He had information for the case. That was the only reason that she was going. They met in some of the oddest places. Sometimes it was her motel room, sometimes it was his. She had met him in a parking lot, in an alleyway, and in a park where he had been sitting on a swing like a ten year old. One time she'd run across him at a coffee shop that they used to love and she had tried to slip away before he had seen her. She was pretty sure he had seen her, but he hadn't called out.

It was a motel that night, but he hadn't given her a room number so she had no idea if that was where he was staying. He moved more often than she did, but that was because _everyone_ seemed to want to kill him these days. Well, not everyone, but Liz thought it was better if he didn't know that. Let him think she hated him still. It was safer for them both that way.

She pulled in a steadying breath as she stepped out of her vehicle and started towards the building. It was dark, lights flickering in some doorways and not others, and she didn't like it. It was strange to think about Tom of all people being in a place like this, but the man she was meeting wasn't Tom. Not really. His name was Jacob, even if she refused to call him that.

"Hey."

Liz paused, phone half pulled out of her jacket pocket so that she could call him. She looked around, not seeing him immediately, but finally she spotted him sitting on the edge of the pool that was meant for the guests of the motel, feet over the side and floating in the water. A frown tugged at her lips as she pushed the gate between them open and entered. "What are you doing? It's cold out here."

"It's starting to warm up," he answered with a shrug, lifting one foot up and letting the water drip off of it.

"It's barely seventy degrees. Probably lower now that the sun is down." She inched closer, taking note of the fact that he was in a pair of cargo shorts and a t-shirt. She looked around to see a jacket folded across one chair, his boots and socks carefully tucked away there along with his bag. He was on the move again. She wondered if there'd be a day that he stopped waiting on whatever the hell he was waiting on and just disappeared, leaving DC and leaving her. He hadn't talked about his boat in the last several visits.

"You want to know why I never learned to swim?"

"I want to know what you know about the case, Tom. I didn't come here for stories that have nothing to do with my job."

He looked up at her now, those big blue eyes of his boring straight through her and she made sure to keep her expression as blank as she could. Liz crossed her arms and tried to look stern.

"I fell through some ice in the lake by the group home I was staying in when I was six. Nearly drowned. I wouldn't go near any water for years and I just never learned because of it." He kicked his foot out, spraying water out across the pool. "Never had a job that I needed to swim for either, so I never learned."

"I'm not sure why you think I need to know that," Liz said shortly.

"Because it's true," he answered her, blinking owlishly in the shadows. "I wanted to tell you something true that I'd never told you before."

Her lips thinned. "You do have information, don't you? You know that if you don't and you said you did, this will never work again, right?"

"I wouldn't do that to you." He looked at the water, a strange sort of sadness in his eyes that she didn't know what to make of. "I know how much your job means to you." He looked up at her again. "It's really not cold after a few minutes."

"Only because your feet are numb," she jabbed back, but there was less bite this time. With a sigh, she reached down and peeled off her shoes, rolling her jeans up. This was stupid, she knew, but she needed to get him talking or they'd be there all night. He might not have anywhere to be in the morning, but she did. She had a murderer to catch.

A small smile perked his lips and he was watching her out of the corner of his eye. "You know how to swim, right?"

"You know that I do. Listen, our unsub is funnelling money through-"

"Teach me."

"I'm sorry?"

His smile grew a little. "Teach me to swim. You give Reddington bits of information in exchange for help, right? I've never asked for anything."

"Bullshit. The passports. That you haven't used, by the way."

"You offered. There's a difference. I've never _asked_ for anything in return for the information I give you. It's not much, Liz. This will crack your case wide open."

"Why do you say that?"

His smile turned a bit mischievous as he tugged his t-shirt up and over his head, set his palms firmly against the concrete side, and slipped into the water, immediately turning to cling onto the side.

Liz glare daggers. "Seriously? What the hell are you doing? If you go under, I'm not saving you."

"You'd let me drown?" he asked, his voice taking a tone she knew well. It was one he'd used when they had been married. Part teasing, part knowing. It was the tone he used when he knew she was being stubborn but _knew_ he had won the argument.

"Yes," she said stubbornly. "It'd be your own damn fault."

"Maybe."

He still had a good grip on the side and pulled himself up, setting his chin into the crook of his elbow. He watched her from his place, clothes soaked and absolutely absurd. Liz shook her head. "I swear, if this is some game-"

"You're the only one I trust to teach me. That's the truth."

Liz forced herself to breathe. It was like he was trying to play the part he knew she loved. Tom had been sweet and playful. This man, though, was a manipulator by trade, but even knowing that she had a hard time accepting it. The truth shown on his eyes, like he was being purposefully open, and he waited for her. Finally, with a glance around to make sure they were alone, she stood and began stripping down to her underwear and tank top beneath her dress shirt. "I swear if there are cameras..." she warned.

"Why would there be cameras?" Tom asked, almost indignantly. At least Liz thought it was indignant, but the longer she stared at him, the more she thought that might have been his confused expression.

"The cameras. In our home," she said pointedly.

"I didn't put those there. You thought I put those there?"

Liz stopped, jeans around her ankles. "You didn't?"

"No. I never found out who did. I assumed it was Reddington."

"No, Red didn't set it up."

"Hmm." Tom sunk deeper into the water, never releasing the side of the pool. "Well, I didn't either. Do we have a deal or not?"

She snorted. "I'm not getting into that water for my health," she groused, tossing her jacket and jeans over with his things. Carefully she dipped a toe in, wincing at the temperature. How was he able to jump all the way in?

"It's not bad," he assured her.

"I hate you," she grumbled, sinking in and feeling the chill work its way through her body.

"No you don't. You wouldn't be here if you did."

She found herself face to face with him then, both submerged into the water and he had the beginnings of a grin that he was trying to hide. She better get her information from him or she really would let him drown.

"You're looking for a bank as your starting point," he said, carefully taking one hand from the side and holding tightly with one.

Liz's gaze darted down, desperately avoiding those eyes. "Kick with your feet."

"Like this?"

"Yeah. You've got to keep moving if you want to stay vertical and above water."

Tom had always been bright and a fairly quick study when he needed to be. She hadn't put too much thought into it before, but knowing what she did then, it made sense that he only went as far as the particular job he was on. Likely he had learned a lot from the various operations that had come before her, and all that information found a place in his mind. It was impressive, even if she would never admit it out loud.

"Reddington did tell us about the bank. The problem is in identifying the man who got paid through it. His false identity is... Well it's makes him hard to track."

"He didn't tell you about Tanner Reese, though, did he?"

"No, he never mentioned him." She pushed off from the side a little, treading water where she was. She felt him studying her movements in the dark pool and tried to ignore it, looking him over instead. He was thinner now, all muscle and nothing more. She supposed that he probably didn't have the time or money to eat like he had when they had been married. She had to admit that she missed that. He had always been so sweet about it, ready with a glass of wine and halfway through cooking when she walked through the door. There were plenty of times, she knew, that her plate had sat waiting for her when work ran late. Sometimes she would come home to find the leftovers warmed in the oven and Tom sleeping in a chair like he'd been trying to wait up for her and just didn't quite make it.

These days he looked like he hardly slept at all.

He closed his eyes briefly and let go, sinking under at first and then sputtering back up. If the childhood trauma still bothered him - if it were true at all, Liz reminded herself carefully - he hid it well. Determination was in every line of his face and Liz almost laughed at him as he struggled to stay afloat. "Have you seriously never tried?"

"No," he said with some effort.

"Well, good news is I don't think you're going to drown."

"Bad news?"

She flipped over to her back, swimming a bit and trying to warm up. "You still haven't given me much. Tanner Reese?"

"Right," he said as if he's forgotten. He was still watching her carefully. "He's the one you'll want to question. Most people that do what he does are just middlemen. People come into the bank, apply for a loan, and if they fit a certain profile the information is sold. Clean credit, great histories, real people. It goes to the forgers that tweak things and the create an identity for someone to disappear under. Tanner Reese is an all in one stop though. The kid is good. Never been caught. You put pressure on him and he'll be able to tell you the real identity of your murderer."

Liz nodded, her brain shifting through the information that he had given. When she looked around, a smirk tilted her lips. She had been swimming backwards and he had been so focused on fulfilling his end of the bargain he hadn't realized that he had followed her. She stopped, putting her feet down and finding the bottom of the pool. "Look at you. You can swim."

He blinked at her for a moment before letting himself settle to stand. Tom looked back across the water that they had crossed and then again at her, a small and real smile playing on his face. "Thank you."

"Now can we get out of here before we both get pneumonia?"

That pulled a laugh out of him. A real, open laugh just like the ones that she missed. "Sure."

Her teeth were chattering as they climbed the steps at the shallow end of the pool and she nearly ran for her clothes. Spring might have arrived, but it was still too damn cold to be swimming. She tugged her jeans on and slipped her blouse on over her head. She had just gotten her own jacket on and was searching for a hair tie when a much larger jacket draped over her shoulders. Liz looked back to see Tom standing there in his t-shirt and sopping wet shorts, his jacket over her shoulders. "Don't you need-?"

"It's fine. You're cold and it's my fault."

"You're going to get sick."

"Probably not, but if I do you can tell me you told me so," he teased, sitting to tug his boots on.

"You're impossible when you're sick," Liz said quietly, pulling his jacket a little closer. It smelled like him.

"I know," Tom answered with a grin, popping back to his feet and grabbing his bag. "Let me at least walk you to your car? I'm on my way out anyway."

"Going to go find that boat now that you can swim?"

His smile faded a little. "Someday."

Liz pulled in a deep breath, watching him. "I'm not parked far. It'll be fine."

"Next time then," he murmured, though hardly looked like he thought he would receive a positive response.

"Next time," she agreed and turned before she could say anything else. Quickly she moved back the the car piled in, barely able to see his retreating form in the poor light. He'd watched her go, making sure she was in the car without mishap before he had taken his eyes off of her. As she pulled his jacket closer again, burying her nose in it, she almost felt safe. There would be a next time, and likely a time after that. They were drawn to each other, she knew, and for the first time in a very long time, she didn't want to fight it.

* * *

Notes: So this little plot bunny had rather sharp teeth. It grabbed hold of my ankle and wouldn't let go. I love the swimming metaphor that they're using, but I love it even more that he says he can't swim.

As always, if anyone wants to see a specific short, let me know! I'm open to suggestions! :D


End file.
